Pact of Blood
by dreamsofmishra
Summary: A son seeks out a mysterious man who had greviences with his father. My first fanfic. Rated M for violence.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer! I do not own Diablo or any of its characters. However, I do own any characters I create.

The Pact of Blood - Prologue

Farrell grew up in a simple town, just north of Tristram. It was a small town, consisting of no more than twelve families, all living harmoniously, surviving on their yearly harvests of rice and barley. The town was spread out, fanning out several kilometres, each family separated by their boundaries of crop fields.

Farrell himself was the son of Mat'duk, once a great barbarian of the northern lands, fighting demons with his comrades as mercenaries for the nobles foolish enough to remain there. When the northern alps were overrun, he lost many of his comrades, and fled the place, watching helplessly from a distance as the nobles' fort was overrun by demonic imps, brandishing cleavers of demonic magic, which cut through armour as though it was paper. Mat'duk fell outside the Elshifs' house one day, hundreds of kilometres away from the northern lands, delirious from sickness and fatigue. Yet, through months of care, he got well, and swore never to pick up his axe as a mercenary anyway.

Since then, he become the foundation of the town, building it up, attracting other travellers, persuading some mercenary-wannabes not to venture up to the northern lands in search of fortune. Some listened and stayed, joining the community, whereas others refused to listen, and continued their way, never to be seen again by the townspeople again.

Farrell, now nine, was proud of his father, who was just made the new head of the town. How the townspeople cheered! They were in the community circle, a huge circular patch of unused soil that the town used for their gatherings. He ran towards his father, tears streaming down his face, and hugged him tightly.

"Father! Father! You were amazing!" He cried out, emotional after hearing his father tell his story as a mercenary, and his devotion to the town, for the first time ever. Nobody ever knew about his past, and now their respect for him grew.

"Ahaha! I was nothing, son!" He replied, smiling as tears streamed down his face. His love for the town was clear in his face.

"Let's have a great celebration for the new head of the town, Mat'duk!" Jeremiah Elshif cried out.

The town cheered, and everyone dispersed, thrilled, returning to their homes to bring their best foods to share with the town. They met at Mat'duk's house, and a great feast was spread out. They feasted like there was no tomorrow, laughing and joking around. The atmosphere was amazing, and Mat'duk himself was at the centre of the attention, cracking all the jokes he knew of from his travels, making the townspeople laugh so loudly.

Farrell was bored, stuffed full of all the pastries the Hackleys brought. Staring out at the dark, crop fields, he felt a certain desire to be all alone in there. _I can easily find my way back anyway, the house is so brightly lit._

Making his mind, he ventured into the fields bravely, the barley brushing past his body lightly. The smell of spring was strong, and the air was sweet and fresh. He found a small patch, and laid there, staring at the stars.

_Father once said something about the stars. Something about people able to make prophecies. I wonder what my future would be._

He laid there for minutes, then suddenly he heard soft rustling somewhere. _Someone's here! _He scrambled into a kneeling position, ready for anything that appeared. Even though he was living here for years, and never saw anything mysterious, the darkness made him nervous.

Suddenly, someone burst into the clearing. A small human figure loomed before him. Farrell didn't know whether to scream or to run. _Is it a monster? Father said he fought monsters before! _Before Farrell could do anything, the figure kneeled before him.

"Found you! I saw you walking in here all alone!" It was a girl's voice.

"Um. Who's this…" Farrell mumbled, confused and embarrassed of his previous suspicions.

"Silly! Silly, silly silly! I'm Maria! Maria Elshif! How could you forget me!" the girl said, laughing.

"Oh, now I remember. Sorry, I was thinking of something important." He felt his cheeks burn, and thanked goodness she couldn't see anything.

"Oh! What were you thinking about?" The figure shifted and laid on the ground. He followed suit and laid down too. The two children stared at the hypnotic stars, awed by the beauty.

After a while, he realised she asked a question. "Oh! I was thinking what my father said to me in the past. He said some magical people could foretell your future by looking at the stars."

"Oh? I can too! Haha! I say, you'll become a great person!" she laughed, probably trying to break the tension. _Oh god? Really? I can't imagine that myself._

"Perhaps…"

They laid there for a while, then suddenly, she got up, brushing her skirt of any dirt.

"I got to go now. My parents are probably going to notice I'm missing. Bye!" she ran into the barley field, the rustling getting softer slowly.

After a while, he got up too, and returned back home. Most of the townspeople had already left, slightly drunk. His father had already downed over ten tankards of beer, but seemed to be unaffected by the booze. _Must be his barbarian training. _Farrell thought, amused.

"Farrell! Where have you been! Go on and sleep!" His mother scolded him, and led him to his bedroom. She changed his clothes and tucked him in.

Farrell stared at his mother as she left the room. He fell into deep slumber, dreaming of a mysterious blonde man with a scar on his neck all the way down till it was concealed by his shirt. The man stared at him with such hatred, and Farrell woke up in cold sweat.

He couldn't sleep, and the sun was already starting to rise. He went out, staring at the golden sun as it cast its first rays of golden light on the barley fields, illuminating each and every stalk. _Beautiful…_

Meanwhile, small, demonic spawns approached, lusting for blood…

A/N- Summary will be up when it will not spoil the story, meanwhile, R&R please. Thanks.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer! I do not own Diablo or any of its characters. However, I do own any characters I create.

The Pact of Blood – Chapter 2 – Fall

Farrell felt hungry. _Where's breakfast… _Just as he turned to return back to the house, he heard a scream in the distance. It was a high-pitched, desperate scream, filled with terror. Farrell turned, and saw a woman, Mrs Hackley, running down the dusty road desperately. She was about a hundred metres away, running away from some unseen entity.

Farrell raised his hand to wave, and the moment she gazed at him, an arrow pierced through her chest with a soft _thud. _She staggered, and crumpled to the ground, her dress stained with deep red blood. Farrell stood there like a fool, shocked at the sudden death before his eyes. Then, small red-skinned creatures walked towards the dead woman, holding small crossbows and machetes.

Farrell knew it was big trouble. _Monsters. _He ran back into the house, rushing into his parents' bedroom and screaming at his parents, telling them what happened.

"… and she died! Those creatures killed Mrs Hackley! MONSTERS!" Hysteria overwhelmed Farrell, and he started crying. Mat'duk raged, and kicked open the chest at a corner of the room. He pulled out his battle axes, and a huge longbow. Farrell watched in awe and fear as his father transformed into a menacing-looking warrior.

Mat'duk felt memories flood back as he put on his battle gear once again. He thought of his fellow comrades, who were slain in battle. He felt his barbaric rage return, and by the time he was properly adorned, he was filled with the old hatred for all things evil once more. He strode out of the house, and noticed the creatures crowding around the dead woman. _Kobolds… _He grabbed the bell hanging on a post, and rang it really loud. The bell rang incessantly as he knocked it about till he was sure the other families were warned of the imminent danger.

_If they came from the north, the Hackleys, Smiths and Johannsons are probably dead by now. Damn! _The kobolds heard the bell, and were now converging on his house.

"Jen! Take Farrell and run all the way down. Warn every family, and get all the women and children to get to the safe zone!" He shouted, drawing his longbow carefully. The kobolds were making shrill noises, most likely getting each other to attack him in formation. _No matter. _He spotted the kobold giving the orders, and let loose the arrow. It released with a loud _twang_, and arced smoothly, and plunged deep into the chest of the kobold. It screamed, and fell to the ground, making some gargling noises as it died slowly.

The other kobolds screamed, and several of them started letting loose their bolts at him. Their aim was poor, and he found the bolts either landing short or trailing far behind his house. _Take out the support, and hack the unsupported. _He fired more arrows at the kobolds holding the crossbows, wiping them out easily. Then, as he turned his attention onto the other kobolds, they seemed to disappear into the field.

_Damn._

"Grarghhh!" A kobold screamed as it jumped at him, swinging its sword clumsily. He dropped his longbow, and pulled out his axes in a smooth motion, cleaving the kobold sideways into three parts. More kobolds appeared around him, and he picked up his longbow and ran into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. _Ten little kobolds find me in a house…_

The kobolds shuffled outside the house, deciding what to do. Then, they decided to attack from all directions. When two kobolds charged in by the front door, one found an arrow sticking through its throat the moment it took a step into the house. The second kobold fired a bolt into the shadows, frightened by the ghost-like enemy. _I better leave… _It took a step back, then suddenly another arrow shot out from the dark hallway, finding its mark on its forehead. _Two ate some arrows, and then there were eight._

Five kobolds entered by the back, and fanned out to search the rooms. They heard some screams, but were too scared to try rushing together. _Eight little kobolds playing seek…_

The creature crept about the room, finding nothing valuable. Then, it went out the room, and looked up the stairway. The others joined it, and they looked around, too nervous to go up the stairs.

"Grargh!" Mat'duk screamed as it smashed through the wooden wall, right in the middle of the kobold party. Swinging his axes like a whirlwind, he beheaded three of them. The other two kobolds screamed, and tried to attack him. He grabbed one of them as it leaped at his face, and threw it at the wall, its bones cracking upon the impact. He cleaved its skull, then brought the axe downwards on the last monster, neatly chopping it into two. _Five met my axe, and then there were three._

The lone kobold shuffled outside the house, hearing the noise inside. _They must have gotten him. _He stepped into the house confidently, and met the blunt end of Mat'duk's axe, its skull bashed in from the impact. Two other kobolds in the fields turned, and shrieked as they saw their comrades dead. They drew their swords and charged. _Three little kobolds thinking I'm dead…_

He took aim, and swung both axes at the kobolds.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Jeremiah Elshif, along with the other men of the town, got to Mat'duk's house. When they saw the kobolds, their hearts sank. Then, Mat'duk stepped out of the house, waving at them cheerfully.

"These were the pickets. Kobolds don't generally try attacking settlements… I fear there is someone, not something, behind this."

"There's someone down there!" Somebody cried, pointing down the dusty road, where a figure crawled on the ground on its hands. They rushed over, fearing for the worst. It looked like Jonathan Hackley. They got to him, where he was dragging himself on the ground, face-down, with his hands. His legs seemed broken.

They turned him over, and got a shock. His face was rotting too quickly, the flesh turning gangrene, peeling and curling off. His hair fell off in patches, and his eyes were glazed and dried up. _Mmmrhh…_ The monster groaned, reaching out for Mat'duk's throat.

The men cried out, both in anger and anguish, and struck out at the creature. It moaned pitifully, and crumbled, its state of decomposition accelerating so quickly, that it was no more than dust and bones within seconds of its second death.

_A necromancer. _Mat'duk felt sick. He has seen what those men could do. _They rend your bones out of you before your eyes, and use them as spears on your comrades. Your body is their weapon. Dead or alive._

"We have to fortify." He said decisively.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Several hours later

It was already noon, and the sun was high up in the sky, scorching the earth. It was also when they saw the horde of the necromancer. It was a grotesque pack of creatures, shuffling slowly, heads cocked to a side, some missing body parts. _Those must have been the townspeople from the villages up north…_

They laid in wait, and when the undead pack were in range, the men let loose a volley of flame-doused arrows. Many struck true, plunging into the creatures, burning the drying flesh away. The creatures moaned, and beat at the flames helplessly. Several knocked into others clumsily, and spread the flames around. The men cheered, then fell silent when they saw yet another wave of undead. A small pack of skeletons, bones clean white, clunked at them, their jaws hanging almost as though they were grinning maniacally.

"Draw your blades! Arrows do nothing to bone! Hack them to pieces!" Mat'duk roared, drawing his axes as he led the charge. The men roared. A great melee ensured, one which slew many men. Mat'duk fought like a berserker, hacking at skulls, and cleaving through ribcages. The skeletons were not as clumsy, and their movement were like real humans. Yet, Mat'duk's strength and skill saved the day. Soon, the ground was littered with broken bones, broken blades, and dead men.

Of over fifteen men, there were only seven left. Mat'duk felt his past creep up behind him again. A dark presence washed through him. He felt something he felt once before, felt when he watched his comrades get slain so quickly. It was fear.

A small, robed figure walked towards the men. It looked at the ground, and walked slowly, patiently, almost as though it was taking a leisurely walk through flowered gardens.

Jeremiah Elshif cocked his bow, and fired an arrow at the stranger. The arrow arced, and everyone was sure the arrow would puncture the figure's chest. Then, just centimetres from the figure, the arrow splintered in mid air, and Mat'duk saw something horrifying.

There was a shield of bone circling almost lazily around the stranger. Jeremiah fired another arrow, and they could see that just as the arrow was again about to hit the stranger, the bones suddenly reacted, and formed a small wall at the spot where the arrow was about to hit, and the arrow shattered from the impact. The bones too broke from the impact, but others took their place. Then, the bones returned to circling around the stranger.

"Go. Run away. Get your wives and run away from this place as far as you can." Mat'duk said. He had to hold off this stranger. _A necromancer. He might even be the one who killed my comrades. Today will be my day. Death in revenge._ He gripped his axe, and charged at the stranger, screaming his battle cry.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Miles away, Farrell heard a scream echoing from far away. _Father…_ His mother held him closely, sobbing, as the other women and children clung on to each other tightly. They were joined by the men half an hour later, and they fled southwards together.

Farrell kept looking back, almost as though hoping his father would suddenly run up to them as though nothing happened.

A/N- Argh what a sucky chapter.


End file.
